


only for you

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 2
Genre: AU where Tatsuya and Jun are allowed to be happy, Bottom!Tatsuya Suou, Explicit Sex, M/M, Married Couple, Top!Jun Kurosu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Rumors don’t come true anymore, and hearsay doesn’t hold a damn shred of power over their private dynamics, over the roles they assume when the doors are closed and the blinds are drawn."
Relationships: Kurosu Jun/Suou Tatsuya
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42
Collections: Anonymous





	only for you

Sumaru City looks like a metropolis but gossips like a small town, and it feels like there’s always someone talking about Jun and Tatsuya: the pretty boy and the biker who got married at Alaya Shrine last year, who live in the last little house on the dead-end street near the ocean. Jun sometimes tells Tatsuya about the comments his customers make at the flower shop. _If only my husband were as strong as yours_ , they say with a wink as they cradle their bouquets. Tatsuya tells him it’s a different sort of the same down at the garage, where his tatted-up mechanics trade crude comments as they toss each other wrenches and oil cans. _Wish my wife was as pretty as your husband_ , they say before rolling back beneath the undercarriages of the cars in the shop.

Tatsuya says nothing back even when they prod him, when they assume things about the particulars of his marriage based on appearances alone, and he’s certain Jun stays tight-lipped, too. But assumptions don’t stick to their backs like they used to before they shattered the power of rumors, before they found their way back to their sacrificed memories—to each other—even after Philemon swore they never would. Rumors don’t come true anymore, and hearsay doesn’t hold a damn shred of power over their private dynamics, over the roles they assume when the doors are closed and the blinds are drawn. 

Tatsuya wouldn’t have it any other way. 

I’m yours alone, he thinks as Jun leads him into their bedroom after a soapy hot shower. He thinks it again as he’s pushed down onto their bed, and again as Jun kneels like a saint between his spread legs. He traces invisible blossoms on the sensitive undersides of Tatsuya’s wrists, guides them up over his head and grasps them, pins them against the pillows on their bed and smiles down as heat spreads over Tatsuya’s cheeks. No baseless rumor could ever compare to the truths Jun sings as he coaxes Tatsuya’s lips apart, to the wanton words he lets bead over Tatsuya’s skin, to the way he laps his wicked tongue over Tatsuya’s ear and grinds down against Tatsuya’s hardening cock. 

Tatsuya pleads wordlessly: with his hips, as he bucks them back against the brace of Jun’s stance, and with his hands, once Jun frees them, as he scrapes red trails down Jun’s perfect stomach, squeezes his ass and pulls them even closer together. But it’s not enough yet — Jun just smirks into Tatsuya’s neck, bites waxing crescents onto his collarbones and grinds down on Tatsuya again. He doesn’t let up until Tatsuya’s squirming, until he’s writhing, until _Jun, Jun, Jun_ falls from his stoic mouth in hitching moans.

When he hears that, Jun sits up straight, eases his palms into the mattress, flicks his eyes up and down Tatsuya’s abs and watches as Tatsuya struggles to stand it for more than a couple of moments. He bites his lip and Tatsuya snaps, surges forward, presses a kiss into the lingering divots. He loves the sear of heat, of _want_ that slips down his throat and pools in his belly when their bodies are tied together like this. Loves how Jun is the only one who can take him apart, who can break down his walls and see him for the soul he hides within his imposing body, who can twist his breaths into gasps and work the depths of his baritone into hungry whimpers. 

“Good,” Jun purrs into the part of Tatsuya’s lips, before once again pushing him against the mattress. “I’m going to make you feel so good. Turn over for me.” 

Tatsuya would do anything for Jun. He doesn't take orders from anyone else, never has, never will. He’s always been the leader, the one in charge, the dominant one who everyone trusts to make the tough calls and have the final say. But it’s absolutely fucking exhilarating, he finds, trusting someone else so fully when that someone else is Jun, putting his pleasure in Jun’s control and letting himself let go while Jun fucks him until he can’t think straight. Tatsuya sometimes can’t believe such an authoritative presence can emanate from someone so delicate, but then he remembers that Jun has always been a man who knows both what he wants and how to fight for it, who doesn’t give up until he’s seen the whole battle through. 

Tatsuya still remembers when he figured out he wanted things this way. It was a few weeks before their wedding day, a sticky summer evening after a grueling day. He remembers how they fell together onto Jun’s old futon in a tangled heap, how he looked into Jun’s eyes and saw something ravenous, how it unlocked something in his mind, something no one else had ever given him a chance to realize. And he remembers Jun, brilliant Jun who could always read his mind before he made sense of his own thoughts, looking down at him and damn near smirking as he realized what was happening.

 _What would you say_ , Jun asked, thumb trailing across Tatsuya’s lower lip, _if I told you I wanted to take you this time?_

 _I’d say please_ , Tatsuya breathed, stunned by the bow of his own quiet words, by the power they gave up and the secrets they told. But Jun just drank them in and smiled wider, leaned in closer and kissed him harder, before grazing his teeth along the line of Tatsuya’s jaw. 

_Then say it_ , he commanded, and everything fell into place all over again. 

It’s been over a year since that night, but sometimes Tatsuya still catches himself reeling. Nowadays it’s rare that they have to talk about what they need from each other out loud. Not when Jun knows exactly how to give Tatsuya what he needs, what he craves, when he holds Tatsuya’s trust in his hands like a precious bloom and never lets it droop while going after what he wants. And what he wants—what he always wants, even after all this time—is _Tatsuya_ , closing tight around him and taking everything he gives. Tatsuya will never cease revelling in awe of that.

Now Jun eases himself off Tatsuya’s thighs and waits for Tatsuya to turn over as ordered. Now Jun bites a pebbled line down his back, finds the spot on his tailbone that makes Tatsuya’s back arch as soon as it’s touched, that sends electric shocks pulsing through his flanks and makes his nerves run wild with desperate anticipation. It’s almost hypnotizing, Tatsuya thinks, how Jun laughs into the flex and kisses the spot a second time, just because he can, before making his way lower again and kneading Tatsuya’s ass with his hands. His tongue swipes across the dimple just above his hole, draws rings around his entrance before teasing his way inside and lapping at the puffy muscle. 

Tatsuya has no goddamn idea how Jun can cast the magic he does with his tongue, but he clenches down on it all the same, lets Jun pull him backwards by his hipbones and add a finger alongside his tongue. Jun’s fingers are nimble and light, and he knows just how to crook them, how to reach the spot that scatters stars across their navy bedsheets when he rubs it the right way, how to puddle Tatsuya’s nerves and shoot sparks into his racing pulse as he slowly builds the intensity. Tatsuya is already starting to tremble, but Jun won’t stop until he’s uncontrollably shaking, until his cock is twitching between his folded legs, until he’s pleading with the whole of his body for more.

“Jun,” Tatsuya moans, unprompted and unrestrained, before biting down on his pillow to muffle the unwelcome sound of his voice. But as he does, he can _hear_ the gleeful grin that sketches across Jun’s face, can feel the twitch of Jun’s lips as they quirk against the curve of his ass.

“Hm? What was that?” Jun asks, and _oh_ , he’s really teasing Tatsuya now, adding in a second finger and swirling his tongue in and out of the tight little gap they create, back and forth between the skipping-stone pauses he takes to come up for air. It’s almost too much, but it isn’t nearly enough: Tatsuya is going to lose his damn mind if Jun doesn’t start fucking him soon, if he doesn’t start touching his cock soon, if he can’t show Jun just how much he wants him soon, and Jun knows it. Jun delights in it. He hums into the space he’s making inside Tatsuya and the vibration rocks through Tatsuya’s bones; fresh waves of pleasure crest through his abdomen and thud in his dick. 

“Jun,” Tatsuya forces out again. “Jun, _please_ —” 

The magic word. The single syllable that Tatsuya knows drives Jun absolutely wild each time it breaks free from his throat, the prayer that aches in his dick long after he says it. One last gentle press drives Tatsuya straight to the edge of orgasm, but Jun knows his body so well, knows just how much pressure will bring him back from release into the throes of desire. He angles his lubed cock against Tatsuya’s hole and leans forward, sucks a mark onto Tatsuya’s shoulder and squeezes his ass affectionately, possessively before pushing inside. 

“Tatsuya,” Jun says, burying a groan under the swoops of his name. “Tatsuya, you always feel so good.”

Tatsuya grunts, grips a fistful of blanket as Jun thrusts into him. Jun’s the perfect size, the perfect thickness, he fills him and fucks him like it’s all he wants to do, like he aches for it as badly as Tatsuya does, like he needs to feel Tatsuya close around his cock as much as Tatsuya needs it dragged against his prostate. Sweat drips down Tatsuya’s forehead as Jun’s hands wander: one grabs the bulky square of his waist, the other dips down and cups his balls. The euphoria spreads from his core to his limbs, from his calves to his forearms to the ridges of his ribs; he feels pressure building in his cock and in his ass, and all of his senses are consumed with Jun. Jun, who is moaning into the nape of his neck, who is scraping his teeth over the points of his shoulders, who is pouring romantic obscenities down the spout of his spine. 

“Mine,” he says in a guttural tone no one but Tatsuya will ever hear, “you’re mine alone, you take me like you were made for me—”

Tatsuya is sprinting back towards the edge, so full of pressure and pleasure from Jun’s tantalizing work that he knows he won’t last much longer. But he also knows Jun must be close, too, because his voice pitches somehow even lower, his thrusts get even firmer, and his words turn downright filthy as they hit Tatsuya’s ears.

“Going to fill you,” he continues, near incoherent. “Want to see you dripping with me for the rest of the night—”

And then Jun lets out a rasping cry, hips snapping stilted as he comes. He pumps into Tatsuya until he keeps his promise, until Tatsuya is brimming, overflowing, grinding backwards in pursuit of his own release. He sucks in a gulp of air as Jun withdraws and takes his near-painfully hard cock in hand, leading him into his own orgasm; a few strokes are all Tatsuya needs to spill everything Jun has built up inside him. He doesn’t shout when he comes, just bites down on the pillow again as every muscle in his body contracts and releases. It’s this feeling, he thinks, that he loves most of all, when the pleasure speckles against his skin like glitter, when it floats through the air in a cool mist before it fades. 

He falls to his side and rolls over once he remembers how to move, and finds Jun waiting for him with a spent smile on his face. Tatsuya pulls him into his arms, presses kisses onto Jun’s eyebrows and into his hair. Jun buries his face in Tatsuya’s chest, murmurs something that’s too muffled to hear but feels like the shape of _I love you_ : soft edges, round vowels, low rumbles like butterfly wings beating over his skin.

I love you too, Tatsuya thinks before remembering to say it aloud. 

So he whispers it first, into Jun’s ear, then kisses his nose and says it again.


End file.
